


Snowflakes

by The_Utterly_Clumsy_Ninja



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fire cannot harm the dragon but a cold sure as hell can, Getting Together, Hanzo has a cold and Jesse is a doting mother hen, Hanzo is cranky, Love Confessions, M/M, McCree is a sweetie, Mentions of friendship - Freeform, Nightmares, Past Violence, Self-Hatred, Taking care of Hanzo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 08:39:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10213751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Utterly_Clumsy_Ninja/pseuds/The_Utterly_Clumsy_Ninja
Summary: What had started as a small tickle in the back of his throat just the other day had now morphed into a fever, an aching throat and Hanzo’s nose feeling so congested he couldn’t breathe through it properly. Despite this, Hanzo was not going to let something as small as a cold get in the way of his daily routine. Stubbornly, Hanzo struggles through his day despite his sickness.Or at least he would have if Jesse McCree wasn't such an infuriating mother hen...





	

**Author's Note:**

> WOOOO
> 
> my first McHanzo fic! I'm so excited to share this with y'all and I hope you enjoy it. just a tiny fic full of fluffy goodness.

Snowflakes fell from the sky outside Hanzo's window, the cold fighting with the heat inside his room at the base as it tried to leak into the home however it could. Hanzo Shimada glanced out the window, catching glimpses of the snowdrifts that were slowly growing in size as the snow kept coming down. His long hair was free from its ponytail for the moment. His head was pounding, the light from the window making it worse as he reached for another tissue at his bedside. His nose had been rubbed raw from the tissues that now filled the small metal garbage can placed next to his nightstand. He would need to replace the empty tissue box later.

What had started as a small tickle in the back of his throat just the other day had now morphed into a fever, an aching throat and Hanzo’s nose feeling so congested he couldn’t breathe through it properly. Instead, he had taken to breathing through his mouth that was in no way quiet or attractive. Hanzo coughed into his hand, shivering as he pulled the covers up to cover himself and hopefully hold in more heat despite the fact he was sweating from the fever. He wasn’t vomiting, though, which meant he could still get up for his daily training and target practice.

Normally, he would have had to avoid the harsh gaze of Dr. Ziegler and her insistence that Hanzo rest. The last time Hanzo had even the smallest hint of a cold, the good doctor had locked him in her ward until she could examine him. Thankfully, Dr. Angela Ziegler was already out with Genji and several other members of the team on her own mission so Hanzo wouldn’t have to listen to any insistence that he sit in bed all day. The whole base was relatively empty so he would get some peace and quiet today while he did his normal routine. Hanzo left his room, slowly making his way to the kitchen.

Hanzo coughed again, his body weak from the fever but he knew he should at least eat something. Hanzo grumbled as he managed to raise his aching body and set his feet on the floor. He hated being sick and normally took every precaution to avoid it. But it seemed the universe felt he was due for a cold. Hanzo sighed, just barely mustering the willpower he needed to stand up and shuffle to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea.

Hanzo coughed again as he walked down the hall, his legs beginning to shake with each step forward. The man lifted his hands, rubbing his upper arms with his hands in an attempt to warm up when he entered the empty kitchen. Hanzo looked around, double checking that there was no one there. While most of the members were on missions, there were a few overwatch heroes that were at the base. It was only five a.m. and Hanzo felt safe in the fact no one else was up. Grabbing the kettle from the top of the fridge, Hanzo set it on the stove to boil.

He coughed again miserably, his too cold body shaking again as the sound of his sickness echoed through the empty room. It didn’t take too long for the water to boil, filling the room with the shrill whistle. Hanzo removed the now squealing kettle from the burner, taking out a mug and his green tea bags. He was too sick and miserable to worry about preparing his tea the usually way he did. Bagged tea would have to do. He poured hot water over the tea, letting it steep for a few minutes while he tried to find the honey to soothe his throat. As he waited for the tea to steep, Hanzo let his mind wander in the quiet room.

Hanzo was used to fighting through his day when he was sick. His father had always worked him hard and it didn’t matter if Hanzo was sick, nothing got in the way of training the dragon heir. Hanzo would fight through anything short of the flu until he collapsed. If he did collapse, he would be scolded for his weakness and forced to start his whole practice again. Genji would often sneak into his room in their younger years to care for Hanzo, sometimes even forsaking a night of partying to make sure Hanzo was comfortable and cared for after working so hard. The memories of those days made warmth blossom in the bottom of his heart. Genji would often bring him a bowl of _okayu*_ to ease his suffering along with some tea brewed just the way he liked.

Hanzo stiffened, memories of Genji’s bloodied face filling his mind. Genji’s terrified brown eyes as Hanzo raised his sword with flashes of their younger years filling him before Hanzo could stop it from breaking through the careful defenses he had in place. It was several moments before Hanzo could calm his breathing, snapping back into reality from his thoughts. He shook the thought from his head and focused back on making the tea. Hanzo reached for the honey on the counter, watching as his spoon filled with the golden substance. He stirred it into the tea, keeping his pace slow to avoid spilling. Making tea was always calmed his nerves with the easy movements.

Hanzo took a sip of the scalding hot liquid, wrinkling his nose at the weakness of it. It would have to do as Hanzo shuffled back to his room to get dressed as his head gave a painful pound from the pressure in his sinus from his congestion. Miserably, Hanzo walked back to his room, not bothering to eat after all. He had a long day ahead of him and it was best to get started now.

 

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0oo0o0o0o0

The snow did not help Hanzo’s shaking body as he tried to get through his morning routine. It took him twice as long to get through the first half of his strength workout in the gym. Not being able to breathe through his nose hindered the process and now after two hours, he was finally able to start his target practice. Hanzo had pulled his quiver over his back, setting up the targets slowly. Normally his favorite part of the day was his target practice with his Stormbow.

The perfectly aligned targets were set up in front of him after several minutes of trying to get the computer to set them up. Athena wasn't keen on Hanzo training while he was sick but the archer was quick to snap at her. The AI was silent now but Hanzo suspected she was closely monitoring his vitals for any sign of fatigue. Hanzo’s body was already shivering uncontrollably in the cold air. Hanzo took a shaky breath, trying to breathe properly and control it. Hanzo hated the cold, preferring the warmth and the sunshine when he could find it and today was no exception. He coughed hard into his hand, trying to angle Stormbow despite his shaking hands.  Snowflakes coated his shoulders as snow continued to fall from the sky, only further stealing his body heat as Hanzo tried to focus on the task at hand. drawing an arrow from his quiver, Hanzo lined up the shot with shaking hands.

Hanzo aimed for the target just ahead of him, his head pounding as he pulled the string back despite his shaking shoulders and arms. Taking a deep breath through his mouth, his normally careful breathing technique hindered by his congested nose and the rattling feeling in his lungs. Hanzo released his breath, stifling another cough as he let the arrow fly. The arrow hit the target with a soft thunk just barely hitting the outside and nowhere near the bullseye. Hanzo growled in frustration, earning him another coughing fit that made his pounding head swim and his throat ached. The man moved to remove another arrow from his quiver and line up his next shot.

“Hey Hanners, I thought that was you that I was seein’ from the window.”  a familiar voice stated, causing  Hanzo to look up and glance in the direction it had come from. He knew the voice before he looked up. Jesse McCree walked up to stand just to his left, familiar red serape draped over his shoulders and the brim of his brown cowboy hat covered in fallen snowflakes. Hanzo felt his heartbeat pick up slightly in his chest.

Hanzo gave the cowboy a look before turning back to his targets and trying not to look as weak as he felt. The last thing he needed was McCree seeing him like this. Not that the man was as bad a Dr. Zeigler when it came to other members falling ill but after many months in Overwatch, Hanzo and McCree had become what Hanzo would call friends. Even though as of late, Hanzo had been putting distance between them when he could. Despite the racing heartbeat and flush that was surely glowing on the archer's cheeks, Hanzo tried to keep his cool, arrogant mask on his face. The last thing Hanzo wanted was for McCree to think he was helpless.

“What is it, McCree?” Hanzo stated with a clipped tone, willing his muscles not to shake as he lifted Stormbow up again. “Can’t you see I am busy?” McCree looked over Hanzo, lifting his hat slightly and knocking a few bits of snow onto his shoulders. Brown eyes moved over Hanzo’s muscles, catching the slight shake of Hanzo’s normally perfectly still stance. The cowboy raised a brow at his friend as he took in how pale Hanzo looked, catching the faintest shake of Hanzo’s shoulders. The archer stifled another cough as it broke through his defenses, lowering his bow for a moment and covering his mouth. McCree's eyes became concerned, scanning over the dark circles and general tiredness he could see on Hanzo’s face. McCree took a step forward toward the archer.

“Ya okay there, darlin’?” McCree asked, eyes not leaving Hanzo.“I was gonna ask if you wanted to resume our shooting competition but you look sicker than a dog…” The dragon heir tried not to look back at McCree as he lined up his next shot as carefully as he could. Hanzo shot his arrow, missing the bullseye completely before the man turned to glare at McCree. Genji often joked of Hanzo’s glare, saying it was fierce enough to scare the stripes off a tiger but where many members of Overwatch gave into Hanzo’s glare, McCree rarely seemed to be affected by it. Today was no different as the cowboy met the fierce look with a raised brow, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I am fine and even if I wasn’t it is none of…” Hanzo snapped before his cough rose to the surface, deep and wet sounding as it wracked through his chest. Hanzo’s eyes watered as he fought to catch his breath, the cold air stinging his sensitive lungs and making it hard to breathe in more air. Hanzo’s vision briefly swam before he managed to take a gulp of air. Hanzo stumbled slightly as he moved to straighten himself up only to find a warm hand on his arms, a soft material being draped over his shoulders.

“Come on, sweetheart. You’re gonna come inside and I’m gonna fix ya up somethin’ warm.” McCree said, the deep accent sounding comforting as Hanzo looked up to refuse him. “And I will throw ya over my shoulder if I have to.” Hanzo was too tired to fight the cowboy and instead let his teammate lead him back up to his room. McCree quickly typed in the code that opened Hanzo’s door. The metal door swished open and Hanzo let himself be moved toward his bed. McCree stopped just short of the bed, finally releasing Hanzo’s shoulder.

“Now, go put on somethin’ comfortable and lay down,” McCree stated as Hanzo looked up at him with yet another glare. “An’ give me your wet things, I’ll run them through the wash.” Hanzo made a small disgusted noise. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself even if he was a bit under the weather.

“I am fine McCree, you can leave now,” Hanzo assured, turning to pull his wet hooded sweatshirt over his head. “I am a grown man, it is not as if I haven’t been sick before.” He managed to pull his wet pants off and turned to toss them onto the floor. In his annoyance, Hanzo failed to notice McCree still in the room. McCree hadn’t moved as Hanzo felt his cheeks warm from more than the fever, his heart hammering in his chest as he managed to keep himself calm. He didn’t think McCree would just stand there while he got undressed. It was oddly nerve-wracking but somehow exhilarating to be mostly naked in front of McCree.

McCree cleared his throat before he gathered all of Hanzo’s wet clothing in his arms. Hanzo moved to focus on getting dress, not meeting McCree’s eyes. If he wasn’t so tired and sick, Hanzo was sure he would have run out of the room. If he had turned around, had looked at the man behind him, Hanzo would have seen McCree’s tanned cheeks were looking a tad red as well. McCree cleared his throat as he drove away his own nervousness.

“Now don’t be like that, sweet cheeks. Just change into your pj’s and I’ll be right back.” McCree chided, smile good natured as he left the room. Hanzo slid out of his briefs, cheeks warm as he pulled on a shirt and a fresh pair of briefs before begrudgingly crawling into bed. He pulled McCree’s serape onto his shoulders again as he settled under the covers. The material was surprisingly warm around him, somehow already dry despite being covered in snow previously.

McCree soon returned with extra pillows in hand as he moved to Hanzo’s bedside. He placed his cool metal hand on Hanzo’s shoulder, urging him forward. Hanzo leaned forward, letting McCree set the pillows behind him, elevating Hanzo once he settled back onto them. Hanzo coughed again, trying to fight it but failing as the deep sound made the cowboy raise a brow. McCree smiled down at Hanzo, his eyes soft.

“There, keepin’ ya elevated will help that cough,” McCree said softly, for once keeping his voice quiet in an effort not to irritate Hanzo’s head. A gesture that Hanzo was grateful for. A cool hand was set onto his forehead, making Hanzo feel warm once again. McCree hummed softly, pulling his hand away and wrinkling his brow in worry.

“You're burnin’ up darlin’...what possessed ya to go out in the snow like this I will never know.” McCree scolded as Hanzo looked up at him, feeling irritation and somehow...affection from McCree’s fussing. It was...nice to have someone who was worried about him. The feeling of his heart hammering in his chest made Hanzo look away as McCree reached for the thermometer on the nightstand.

“Now you're gonna stay in bed while I make ya something to eat.” McCree urged as Hanzo opened his mouth to protest only to have McCree shove the thermometer under his tongue. Hanzo glared up at the man as he held the foreign object in his mouth. McCree chuckled at the archer’s look, brown eyes full of humor from the situation. After several moments, the thermometer beeped and McCree pulled it from Hanzo’s lips. The cowboy shook his head at the number flashing on the small screen.

“Your temperature is one hundred and one point three,” McCree stated simply as he wiped the thermometer off, replacing it in its case and turning back to Hanzo. “It’s not a request anymore, sweetpea you are stayin’ in bed until further notice.” Hanzo’s eyebrows crinkled in annoyance. He had fought through worse things and how dare McCree treat him like some kind of child. The archer was about to say something when McCree pressed his hand over Hanzo’s mouth, silencing the complaint completely and making Hanzo’s skin prickle with the contact.

“Not a peep outta ya, I’m gonna head to the kitchen and be right back,” McCree stated as he straightened up and headed towards the door, casting an easy smile at the man in his bed. “And if ya ain’t resting when I get back, I will tie ya to the bed.” Hanzo wrinkled his nose, glaring at McCree openly now.

“I am not a child, McCree,” Hanzo stated as he laid back against his pillows and crossing his arms across his chest. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” McCree shook his head and chuckled at his friend’s behavior.

“I’ll be right back, just let me take care of ya and ya’ll be right as rain in no time,” McCree replied gently before disappearing through the door. Hanzo huffed, moving to settle into his bed. He pulled the serape closer and tried to think about sleep but he was too busy seething in his irritation. Slowly, Hanzo felt himself sighing as he stared out the window. The snowflakes were still falling slowly, clinging together to pile into soft looking snow drifts outside the headquarters. Hanzo pulled the serape closer to his body, looking down at it with a soft smile.

It was interesting to see this new side to McCree. Part of Hanzo was annoyed, the part he voiced. He wasn’t a child and didn’t see a point in being treated as such. However, a small part of Hanzo enjoyed the cowboy’s gentle worrying. After so many years being on his own, it was odd to have anyone to worry about him, let alone try and care for him. The thought of McCree being the one to care for him made Hanzo almost wish for more. Hanzo sighed heavily, looking from the snowflakes to the red serape wrapped around him.

Ever since Hanzo’s first day, the cowboy had always been trying to talk to him, to befriend him. At first, Hanzo found it to be a minor annoyance. He was only here because of his brother, or what he at first thought was an omnic masquerading as Genji, convinced him it would be a way to atone for his past. The others, those who had seen what he had done to Genji before, had shunned him and acted coldly but Jesse...He had welcomed him with open arms and a bright smile.

At first, Hanzo had been cold to the man. How was he expected to take a man who looked like he had just stepped out of a black and white western seriously? How could he expect a man who had seen first hand the effects of Hanzo’s past decisions, not to betray him for what he had done to Genji? From the tip of his stetson cowboy hat down to those ridiculous spurs on the heels of his boots, McCree didn’t seem to be worth his time or his trust. Hanzo was a man of few words but the ones he would use for Jesse at the beginning were not kind.

Hanzo wasn’t sure what had changed exactly. But a day that began with a shooting competition between McCree's six shooter and Hanzo's bow skills turned into sharing the favorite drink of the winner. Hanzo had shared his sake with McCree as they sat on the roof of the headquarters. They ended up getting drunk, laughing and talking about nothing in particular before stumbling back to their rooms. It was the most fun Hanzo could recall having in quite a long time.

Slowly, Hanzo felt himself warming to McCree’s friendship. Evenings spent challenging each other to matches of shooting skill, training and more often than not, sharing stories on the rooftop of headquarters as they drank. Jesse was content to carry conversations at first, his loud voice making Hanzo feel welcomed. More importantly, McCree knew when to be silent. Somehow he could sense when Hanzo just needed to sit and listen to the comfortable absence of talking.

As time passed, even Hanzo opened up a little more to the cowboy and shared some of his past with his friend. He hadn’t even meant to tell McCree about leaving his home, hadn’t meant to confess how much he missed it. It was that night he found out that Jesse’s past was almost as dark as his own. Their bond only deepened after that night, a bond of two men with similar regrets. Hanzo felt the first whispers of attraction as McCree gave Hanzo as much as he was given. If no one else understood what it was like to carry regret and attempt to find redemption, at least Jesse did.

More of the Overwatch members befriended him over time and Hanzo began to find acceptance amongst the team but Hanzo always appreciated Jesse’s company the most. Jesse was always there as if he could sense when Hanzo needed him. It filled Hanzo with a warmth that he had never felt before and he began noticing small things. The way McCree’s brow wrinkled just before he took a shot, how McCree’s laugh sounded, how handsome McCree looked in the moonlight.

Hanzo knew his feelings were ridiculous and pursuing them would be even more so. McCree was a good friend but hoping for something more would only end in bloodshed. How could he, a man that had so callously taken his brother's life, ever deserve someone as warm and loving as McCree? He didn’t deserve to bask in that warmth and Hanzo could never hope to give McCree everything he deserved. Hanzo didn’t trust himself not to hurt the man he cared so deeply for with his often cold exterior.

Hanzo felt himself drifting off, thoughts of Jesse filling his mind as his ailing body finally gave into rest. It was not an easy rest he settled into, his mind plagued with horrible thoughts. Hanzo clutched the soft material of Jesse’s serape around him as he slowly slipped into sleep, hoping to find comfort in it somehow. This small thing was all he would allow himself to indulge in.

 

O0o000o0o0o0o0o0o00o0o0o0o00

Hanzo’s dreams were not sweet ones, his mind full of nightmares from his past and fears for the present. He could smell the sharp scent of blood from his sword and hands, hear Genji’s voice calling his name desperately, could hear the wet crunch as his sword cut through bones and flesh. Genji’s screams of pain.

_“You will never amount to anything!” Hanzo heard his own voice saying as he watched his sword slice through Genji’s left arm. “A useless liability to the clan.” The limb fell to the ground with a wet thump that was only interrupted by the scream of pain from his brother’s lips. Hanzo felt his bitterness rising, his heart crying out at his own actions. None of those words were true but Hanzo couldn’t stop himself from saying them._

_“You cannot hope to defeat me, Genji.” the words he had spoken so long ago echoing through the dark parts of Hanzo’s mind. “You are nothing but a failure, a mistake that I shall erase from existence.” Hanzo gripped the blade he’d held in his hands, glaring at Genji as his brother’s eyes met his._

_“Hanzo…” Genji’s weak voice spoke, not begging but not angry either. Hanzo steeled his screaming heart, refusing to let his heart break in that moment. He let out the call for his dragons, barely hearing it spilling from his own mouth. Blue light filled the room as his spirit dragons barrelled toward his brother. The twin dragons cried out as Hanzo released them, not wanting to harm their masters brother, not wanting to harm but becoming an extension of Hanzo’s will._

_The spirit dragons tore through Genji’s body, ripping his other limbs apart with a scream that pierced into Hanzo’s very being when the man realized it was no longer his brother’s voice he was hearing. When the light cleared and the dragons disappeared, it was no longer Genji bleeding as he fell to the ground._

_Jesse’s brown eyes stared lifelessly up at Hanzo, his blood coating the archer’s blade and hands. The cowboy’s blood filled the floor, spilling from his mouth as words managed to form from his dying lips._

 

_“Why...Hanzo…”_

 

_Hanzo…_

 

“Hanzo, ya gotta wake up darlin’”

Hanzo woke up viciously when a hand touched his shoulder, making the hardened assassin react. His hand shot out, grasping the wrist of his attacker as his other hand curled into a fist. The sudden touch pulled him out of the haze of sleep and congestion. Dark eyes met soft brown just before Hanzo’s fist connected with Jesse’s face. It was only by his self-control that Hanzo managed to stop himself in time. The archer’s chest heaved, sweat covering his body as another cough wracked through his body. McCree stood at the edge of Hanzo’s bed, eyes wide for a moment from the suddenness of  Hanzo’s movements.

“Whoa there, darlin’. It’s just me.” McCree comforted softly, his mechanical hand cold in Hanzo’s hand. “Ya were just havin’ a nightmare...you're at HQ, you’re safe...” Hanzo released his grip on McCree’s wrist, eyes wandering around the room. Seeing that he was in his room, surrounded by his blankets, Hanzo began to relax. He looked to the nightstand where a steaming bowl was resting. Hanzo felt his stomach growl softly as he looked back up at McCree.

“I apologize…” Hanzo said as McCree took out a tray to lay over his lap before setting a bowl in front of him. Hanzo tried to shake the dream from his mind, he should be used to them by now. He felt a hand on his thigh over the blanket, his cheeks heating when he realized it was Jesse’s. Hanzo’s heartbeat picked up and he swallowed thickly despite his sore throat.

“No need, sweetheart. I did kinda sneak up on ya.” McCree reassured as he watched Hanzo look over the food, smiling softly as Hanzo looked up at him. “Got some soup here for ya, ya need to eat somethin’.” Hanzo sat up, keeping his back against the pillows as he looked down at his lap, not meeting Jesse’s eyes. He was grateful for the subject change. McCree had a way of knowing when Hanzo wanted to talk and when he didn’t. McCree knew Hanzo didn’t care to speak of his nightmares to McCree, they were his burden to bear. He was already uneasy that McCree had been in his dream at all...

Hanzo looked down at the food, inspecting it with a raised brow. The steam from the broth curled in the air, taking on shapes as Hanzo’s brown eyes scanning over the contents of his bowl. The yellow broth smelled so strongly of garlic and onions that it broke through Hanzo’s congestion. He could see large chunks of chicken floating in the broth with what looked to be a cob of corn and a chunk of zucchini floating alongside some large chunks of carrots. Various other vegetables could be seen as well as some other foods he didn’t recognize.

“What is this?” Hanzo asked, changing the subject but not moving to touch the food as Jesse takes a seat on the edge of the bed. McCree smiled widely, picking up the spoon and holding it up to Hanzo. His eyes were kind, with an almost childlike excitement shining in them.

“Just try it for me, I promise it will help,” McCree said, holding his hand under the spoon to keep it from dripping as Hanzo looked from the soup to McCree’s hopeful eyes. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to the spoon and sipping the cooling broth. He swallowed the hot liquid, savoring the taste of the chicken broth for just a moment. It tasted good, the onion and garlic a bit stronger than he was used to but the warmth of the broth soothing his sore throat.

“It is...good,” Hanzo stated softly as he realized he had just let McCree feed him, face turning bright red as he took the spoon from the gunslinger and started sipping the broth. As he ate the chicken and some of the soft carrots, Hanzo found himself feeling slightly better. The warmth of the liquid helping his sore throat and aching chest. McCree’s worried expression turned to one of pure happiness as he watched Hanzo slowly sipping away at the soup.

“Glad ya like it. My _Abuelita_ used to make _Caldo de Pollo_ like this whenever I got sick back when I was knee high to a jackrabbit.” Jesse said, a hint of pride and happiness at the memory in his voice. “Figured ya’d like something to ease your throat a bit, you were sounding a little hoarse.” Hanzo nodded slowly, finding himself smiling at how happy McCree seemed to be over making simple soup and just how funny his southern anecdote.

Taking some of the chicken onto his spoon and chewing it thoughtfully, Hanzo let the flavor wash over his tongue. It was slightly different than what his mother would make when he was younger but it still warmed him up, chasing away the cold feeling he felt. As they fell into silence, Hanzo cleaning his bowl after realizing just how hungry he was. Jesse took the bowl and tray, setting it aside on the nightstand.

“Now, let me put some of this on ya.” Jesse said, lifting up a small container from the nightstand and opening it up. “Vapor rub, cures all kinds of problems but it’ll help clear up your nose a bit.” Before he could protest, Jesse was taking some onto his human fingers and gently spreading the strong smelling gel onto Hanzo’s chest. The menthol smell wafted up through Hanzo’s nose and the man’s face turned bright red at the sudden touch. Hanzo tried not to breath, hoping McCree wouldn’t feel his racing heartbeat under his fingers.

Hanzo didn’t breath until McCree pulled away and wiped his hands on a tissue...when had those gotten on his nightstand? Hanzo found himself staring at Jesse’s face, taking this moment to take in their closeness. His eyes followed Jesse’s handsome jawline, the scruffiness of his beard and the crows feet just starting to form at the corners of his eyes, looking away as soon as Jesse turned back to him. Hanzo scanned the area, taking in the thermometer and cup of orange juice on his nightstand. It made Hanzo’s heart feel full and ache all at the same time. There was no reason for Jesse to be taking care of him. It was odd to be taken care of like this, to be fussed over. Jesse’s constant touching was a comfort and for a moment, Hanzo felt safe.

“Now, is there anything I can get ya darlin’?” he asked, honey-brown eyes meeting Hanzo’s darker pair and Hanzo noticed then that McCree had rested his human hand on Hanzo’s thigh again. Hanzo laid against his pillows, eyes heavy with the need for sleep as he tried to shake off his racing heartbeat. A yawn escaped Hanzo’s lips, leading to yet another coughing fit. With his belly full and feeling oddly comfortable, Hanzo felt tired.

“I am fine McCree, you do not need to mother me,” Hanzo grumbled sleepily, hoping to hide his heated face under a guise of annoyance. “I am not a child and I could have handled this without you...” McCree lifted his hand, undoing the loosened scarf around Hanzo’s ponytail.

“You're lookin’ a might tired, honey,” McCree said softly as he took the yellow scarf from Hanzo’s hair, setting it onto the nightstand as Hanzo watched him with half lidded eyes. The cowboy carefully folded the scarf, resting it next to the jar of vapor rub.

“I wouldn’t feel right leaving ya all alone while you're sick. Let me take care a’ ya.” McCree offered, lifting his hand to push a stray piece of hair from Hanzo’s face. “And if you call working out in the snow with a cold “handlin’ it” then I’d say ya need someone here.” The archer murmured a small complaint that was barely above a mumble as he yawned again, the coughs following a little weaker this time.

“You are...an infuriating man Jesse McCree,” Hanzo stated as he laid his hand over Jesse’s, eyes closing now that he could breathe through his nose slightly. Jesse chuckled, watching Hanzo get settled in and moving to get up. Hanzo kept his hand on Jesse’s, not noticing how tightly he held it as he started to drift off. Jesse stopped mid rise, returning to his seat on the bed as Hanzo started to drift off. The softest of smiles graced Jesse’s features.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, sweetheart,” Jesse said, lifting his free hand to gently comb through Hanzo’s hair. Hanzo’s eyes slowly started to blink closed at the feeling of McCree’s warm fingers massaging his scalp. The last thing Hanzo saw before sleep claimed him completely was Jesse leaning forward as Hanzo could have sworn he felt a kiss on his forehead and soft, accent heavy words saying.

“But boy, do I wish I could be your man darlin’...”

 

O0o0o0o00o0o0o0o0o0o00o0o0o0o00o00o0o0o0o

Hanzo’s eyes blinked open, the archer groaning slightly as a deep cough escaped his lips. He managed to hide the sound in his pillows so he wouldn’t have to lift his hand. He felt slightly better today, his body still aching slightly from the day before. He mumbled, feeling warm and cuddling back into the warmth of his blankets. It was then Hanzo felt the shifting weight on his legs and opened one of his eyes fully to investigate.

Hanzo’s other eye snapped open when he found McCree’s head resting on his legs, their hands still intertwined and the cowboy asleep with his face pressed to Hanzo's legs. Hanzo blinked down at McCree, trying to gather himself as he looked over the sleeping cowboy. McCree’s hat had been taken off, laying at the foot of Hanzo’s bed. McCree was snoring softly, his hand clutching Hanzo’s, face pressed onto the blankets and his body laying over Hanzo’s legs. After his heart calmed down, Hanzo took the time to look over McCree’s face, contemplating waking the man.

McCree looked...peaceful in his sleep, the harsh lines of previous smiles softened on the cowboy’s face. He looked younger in his sleep, making the familiar warmth of affection spread throughout Hanzo’s chest. McCree was so...handsome in his own way. Hanzo found himself staring again at McCree’s jaw and face, following every curve and line of McCree’s face with his eyes as he soaked in the opportunity to stare at McCree without judgment.

Slowly, the archer lifted his free hand and moved toward McCree’s sleeping form. He rested his hand on McCree’s head, letting his fingers brush through the brown waves of McCree’s hair. The hair was softer than he had imagined as Hanzo gently ran his fingers through them, relishing in this fleeting moment of contact with the man. Had McCree been sleeping here at his side the whole night? Why had he stayed after Hanzo was asleep...did McCree think him incapable of caring for himself? It was an oddly comforting thought that McCree had stayed with him out of caring.

Suddenly, a hand lifted and rested on top of Hanzo’s. McCree opened one eye, smiling at Hanzo as he sat up. Hanzo pulled his hand back to his chest like he had been burned, feeling the heat creeping up his neck at being caught doing something so out of character for himself. He was usually more controlled than this.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.” McCree greeted, rubbing his eyes and turning to face Hanzo. “How are ya feelin’?” Hanzo blushed deeply, trying to hide his face in embarrassment at being caught touching McCree. Maybe the man hadn’t noticed that Hanzo had been stroking his hair. Hanzo mentally blamed his feverish state for the lapse in judgment.

“Why are you still here?” Hanzo questioned grumpily, feeling irritation arise. “I told you I did not require your help.” McCree chuckled, reaching to pick up his hat and place it back on his head. Hanzo tried not to feel the disappointment he felt at seeing McCree’s hair covered once more. McCree smiled at Hanzo, shrugging.

“Figured I’d just stay in case ya needed something late at night,” McCree replied, earning him an eye roll from Hanzo as the man crossed his arms in front of his chest. “No need ta pout, darlin’. Ya woke up once or twice and with the way ya had a death grip on my hand I didn’t see a reason ta leave.” Hanzo just knew he was bright red, beating down the feeling as he glared up at McCree and opened his mouth to retort.

Whatever sharp-tongued reply Hanzo had was interrupted by a strong cough that escaped the archer’s lips, one he had been holding back before. It was not as wet as it had been the day before but the sound still shook his lungs deeply. McCree’s brow wrinkled, his hand instantly going to Hanzo’s forehead as the man coughed into his hand. The cowboy bit his lip thoughtfully as Hanzo tried unsuccessfully to hold back another cough.

“Yer not as warm as yesterday but ya still have a bit of a fever,” McCree stated, his normally calm speech seeming anxious as he went to grab the vapor rub. Sensing that McCree was going to spread the vile stuff on his chest like the man had done the day before, Hanzo’s hand shot out to stop him.

“I do not need you mothering me, cowman.” Hanzo snapped, his head starting to pound from coughing so hard and his own frustration. Why wouldn’t McCree just leave so Hanzo could let his heart calm. He couldn’t think with McCree here like this. With every touch, every look of concern, Hanzo’s heart ached a little more. Hanzo glared hard at McCree as the cowboy raised an eyebrow.

“I’m just tryin’ ta help ya get better…” McCree answered, looking from Hanzo’s hand on his wrist to the frustrated man’s face. Hanzo felt his heart warm again at the words, squelching it quickly with a single thought back to his nightmares. Hanzo needed to keep McCree at a distance emotionally. Hanzo snorted, eyes still narrowed as he glared up into McCree’s brown eyes.

“I do not need your help,” Hanzo argued, releasing McCree’s wrist and crossing his arms in front of his chest again. “I am perfectly capable of handling a small cold on my own as I always have.” McCree met Hanzo’s glare steadily, the cowboy never seemed to know when to back down from a fight but Hanzo hoped that McCree would get the point.

Being “friends” was all Hanzo dared hope for. He couldn't risk letting his feelings out, couldn't risk hurting his only friend, couldn't…

“This isn't about me is it?” McCree asked, drawing Hanzo from his thoughts. Hanzo felt his shoulders tense, cursing McCree's observation in his mind. McCree's hand reached forward, gently resting on top of Hanzo’s. The archer felt his heartbeat picking up again, his eyes widening just slightly. McCree nodded slowly, understanding somehow.

“I ain’t gonna leave just ‘cause ya glare at me and make a fuss.” McCree asserted, his eyes meeting Hanzo’s with a stubbornness the archer had learned to associate with McCree. “I ain't gonna leave ya alone because you're afraid of somethin’. I want to make sure ya are all taken care of ‘cause I care about ya. Now ya don’t have to talk about it but I sure as shit ain’t gonna leave.”

Several moments of silence passed after, Hanzo blinking up in surprise at McCree's words. The words hung heavy in the air, ringing in Hanzo’s head softly like wind chimes. Soft, clear and comforting. The thought of McCree caring about him made the archer’s heart warm, affection taking hold over him.

Hanzo wasn't sure what possessed him with his next action, he would later blame the fever. Hanzo leaned forward and pulled McCree by his plaid flannel shirt. Their lips pressed together, McCree's chapped ones against Hanzo’s warm ones. Hanzo felt the fireworks in his gut from finally kissing McCree like he had been wanting to for ages now.

Hanzo pulled away after just barely a moment, though, staring up at McCree as he slowly realized what he had just done. McCree blinked down at Hanzo, eyebrows lifted in shock and Hanzo instantly felt shame crawl at the bottom of his gut. The feeling wound in his heart, black and hopeless. Hanzo didn’t meet McCree’s eyes as he tried to backpedal on his actions, his heart hammering in his chest for a new reason now.

Panic.

Why had he done that? This was surely the worst possible thing he could have done to ruin everything. McCree would be disgusted most likely, would refuse to speak to him again. Hanzo’s chest tightened, keeping his face stoic and impassive. He was used to hiding his panic by now and it was not the time for it. He needed to come up with an excuse for why he had…

Suddenly, McCree was leaning forward and into Hanzo’s space. Hanzo looked up without thinking, meeting McCree’s beautiful brown eyes. They were soft as McCree’s still living hand lifted slowly, cupping Hanzo’s cheek. The hand was warm against his face a Hanzo unconsciously leaned into it. Hanzo felt his heart skip a beat as McCree leaned forward, gently pressing their lips together

The fireworks resumed in Hanzo’s gut, his eyes closing halfway as McCree’s thumb stroked his cheek. Hanzo leaned further into the kiss, desperate for it. McCree hummed softly at the enthusiasm as he pulled away from Hanzo’s lips. Hanzo tried not to let the disappointment he felt at the end of the kiss as McCree pressed his forehead to Hanzo’s, his hand moving up the shaved sides of his head to tangle in Hanzo’s long black locks.

Their eyes met, Hanzo finding himself unable to look away as McCree gently played with his hair.Hanzo vaguely realized that his hands were now gripping the front of McCree’s flannel in a desperate attempt to keep the cowboy close. McCree chuckled, the sound vibrating in his chest against Hanzo’s hands as the archer felt his heart leap at the sound.

“So that explains why ya were so adamant at pushing me away as of late,” McCree commented, his voice soft as Hanzo flinched slightly. So McCree had noticed that... “I’m not much of a mind reader darlin’ but I’d hazard to say ya been feelin’ this way for a long time?” Hanzo pulled away slightly, not sure how to respond with more than a simple nod. There was no use in hiding now.

“Well, seein’ as I’ve made it clear the feelin’ is mutual…” McCree started to say as Hanzo’s head shot up. McCree had feelings for him as well. Butterflies fluttered through Hanzo’s stomach for just a moment at the thought. McCree cared about him as Hanzo did for him. It felt almost too good to be true. Thoughts suddenly raced through Hanzo’s mind, memories of his nightmare making confusion and uncertainty curled in Hanzo’s heart. His mind reeled as he tried to figure out what to say. He couldn’t let this happen, he needed to stop this now.

“I cannot allow myself this...McCree…” Hanzo started slowly, pulling his hands away to set them in his lap. “I should not have kissed you. I apologize…” Hanzo felt McCree’s hand stop its gentle massage of his scalp, heart crying out at the loss. Hanzo bit his lip as he fought his heart. He wanted this so badly but there was no way Hanzo would allow himself to drag McCree down with him. He wanted McCree but he could not, he should not let this come to pass. It would only result in hurt or worse…

“Bullshit, I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell ya how I feel for ages and I’m glad ya kissed me…” He said, taking in Hanzo’s expression and trying to read between the man’s silence. Hanzo looked down at his hands, feeling like a weight was in his heart. He shook his head, the words he wanted to say escaping him.

“No, it will only result in pain. I cannot allow myself to hurt you…” Hanzo tried to say when calloused fingers hooked under his chin, guiding his face up to meet McCree’s eyes. The site of those honey brown eyes that often haunted his dreams made Hanzo’s throat constrict.

“I ain’t takin’ no as an answer until ya give me a better damn reason than that,” McCree stated, voice rough as his eyes softened at the Shimada. “You've come a long way since ya came to Overwatch and if you’re worried about hurtin’ me then…” Hanzo felt a cough rise up in his chest, the sound making McCree pause. Hanzo felt McCree’s hand come up to rub his back.

“Darlin’ I’m sorry, I shouldn’t put this on ya when you’re sick.” McCree soothed, pulling his hand away as soon as Hanzo’s coughs subsided. “But you an’ I need to talk and I don’t want ya runnin’ off like I know ya will.” Hanzo bit his lip, not wanting to admit that he was already having thoughts on how to avoid McCree for the remainder of his time in Overwatch...

“Now just tell me the real reason ya are so adamant that I ignore the way you set my heart ablaze?” McCree asked, silence filling the room as he watched Hanzo and waited for his answer. Hanzo wasn’t sure why but those words made his chest feel like it was cracking open. Tears pricked at his eyes but the Shimada refused to let them fall. No, he was stronger than this. Hanzo tried to find a way out of this, thought about saying something hurtful to push McCree away but when the archer looked up he lost all desire to lie. McCree deserved the truth.

“I do not deserve the kindness and friendship you have given me, I do not deserve to ask for more,” Hanzo replied slowly, his eyes once more falling into his lap. He cursed his weakness and inability to look McCree in the eyes as he pushed him away. “I am a man who attempted to kill a person he loved more than anything in this world before, an act I regret and will never be able to make up for. How can I know that I will not harm you in such a way? How can I allow myself to covet something I do not deserve to have!” McCree’s eyes widened at the confession, the self-hatred Hanzo felt rolling off him in waves.

“It is better for you to find someone who can appreciate you, can give you happiness that you deserve...I am unworthy of…” Hanzo tried to continue when McCree’s hand reached for his, resting over them, stopping Hanzo’s thoughts dead in their tracks.

“Hanzo darlin’, frankly speakin’ I don’t give a shit,” McCree said, interrupting Hanzo’s speech and squeezing the Shimada’s hand under his own. “Ya and Genji both had hard ass lives. While I don’t always understand the reasons behind ya tryin’ ta kill him, I understand that ya regret it. Ya deserve happiness and saying ya aren’t worthy of me is frankly, shit.” Hanzo’s head remained low as he bit his lip harder to contain the emotion he was feeling.

“I’ve done just as much bad as anyone and if anyone is unworthy it’s me. There is no way something as beautiful as ya deserves to be saddled with a man with a bounty on his head but I look at ya and the bad don’t matter so much anymore. I see you smilin’ or laughin’. Ya just look so beautiful with your guard down and I feel special knowin’ it was me that made ya drop it.” Hanzo couldn’t stop the tears now, his heart aching as he cursed his weakened state and blamed his sickness for the lack of willpower.

“Jesse…” Hanzo whispered quietly as tears fell onto their hands, gripping each other like a lifeline. The cowboy didn’t stop, pushing closer to Hanzo and lifting his mechanical hand to wipe away the tears. The cool metal was a stark contrast to the heat of Hanzo’s face but he welcomed it. He felt like a child, needing the comfort like water on a hot day. He felt himself lean into the hand, tears silently flowing down his cheeks.

“I want to see ya happy, need ta see ya happy and if I can be the one ta do it then I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let ya push me away because you don’t think ya deserve it,” McCree said softly, pulling Hanzo to his chest. “ I care about ya a lot more than I should, Han and I can’t leave it alone if ya are gonna be miserable.” McCree fell silent, waiting and watching Hanzo as the Shimada took in everything that was said by McCree. Hanzo couldn’t stop the tears falling from his face.

This ambivalent feeling was filling him and threatening to split the archer open. He wanted this, wanted to let himself be with McCree. Could he allow himself this? The anxieties in his mind mixing with the want, the need to see where this would go. He hated this sadness. Hanzo could deal with anger, he could use that in the field to make his enemies cower before him. Bitterness had it's uses as well, giving him a tough air that only few could see through. Those emotions protected him.

Anxiety was debilitating, this fear of failing one that had driven him to close himself off since he was young. He couldn’t stand the thought of hurting McCree, of ruining a person he cared for more deeply than he knew he should. But the happiness he felt with McCree...it warmed him like a soft spring breeze. The icy wall he’d built around himself, a wall necessary to be the leader of the notorious Shimada empire, a wall that had been bred into him, all that was melted away by McCree’s smiles and attentions.

With McCree, Hanzo could just be. There was no pressure, no judgment, there was only a healing aura of acceptance and devotion when he looked up into those brown eyes that set his heart beating frantically in his chest. For just a moment, Hanzo let himself hesitate. Jesse’s soft, begging eyes made Hanzo’s heart melt ever so slightly. The hope and caring he could see there in McCree’s eyes...it was like nothing Hanzo had ever experienced. Maybe he could allow himself this, if not for himself than for McCree. Maybe this was the first step he needed to take.

“Kiss me again.” Hanzo whispered softly, letting relief move through him for just a moment before McCree’s lips were on him. Happiness bloomed softly in his heart, washing over him with the wave of relief as McCree kissed him. The first kiss was short but followed with many more gentle kisses. Each one more passionate than the last before McCree pulled away panting after several minutes. Hanzo smiled softly, eyes dry now and lips swollen as he coughed again.

“I am sorry, Jesse. I’m afraid I may get you sick now....” Hanzo apologized, still smiling as McCree’s own grin took up most of his face. The cowboy waved his hand as if batting the words from the air, smiling as he moved closer to Hanzo. Hanzo closed his eyes as he felt McCree’s hands return to playing with his hair and the anxiety that still clung to his heart loosened just a little more.

“No need to worry ‘bout me darlin’ I’m healthy as a horse. I won’t get sick.” McCree stated as he reached to grab the Vicks rub again. “Now let me get back to takin’ care of my boyfriend until he’s back on his feet.” Hanzo’s heart leaped at the word. It was going to take some getting used to hearing that word from McCree.

“But soon as your better, I’m takin’ ya on a real date.” McCree said as he pulled his hand away to unscrew the cap on the jar, taking a large amount onto his hands. “Nobody ta bother us. Just you an’ me, maybe a movie or somethin’ fun...” Hanzo nodded, closing his eyes as McCree rubbed the Vicks onto his chest as he continued on about the date he wanted to take Hanzo on. Hanzo chuckled, looking out the window as the tiny snowflakes had finally stopped falling. The ground outside covered in a blanket of undisturbed snow. Hanzo laid back on his pillows, turning to smile at McCree softly.

The moments past as McCree continued to talk, the sound of the deep, southern drawl lulling Hanzo back into a slightly more restful sleep that his sick body craved. Hanzo eyes started to flutter close despite his want to remain awake. He had no idea what the future held, he didn’t know that in a week he would be returning the favor by taking care of McCree after he caught Hanzo’s cold. He had no idea the ups and downs this relationship would take him through.

But for now, listening to his...boyfriend’s soft voice and drifting away into a peaceful sleep, Hanzo Shimada could finally just let himself be.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments?  
> Questions?  
> Concerns?  
> Hate?  
> Love?
> 
> leave a comment or a kudos on this fic to let me know how I'm doin'!
> 
> also *Okayu is Japanese rice porridge. it's a dish that is typically given to people when they are sick in Japan. although Japan treats colds a tad different than most westerners do. 
> 
> and Caldo de Pollo is Mexican style chicken noodle soup and Abuelita is Spanish slang for grandma. although literally it's all on google so you could just google it. which I did so I can't guarantee it's 100% accurate.


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